Orlando, Florida

5/12/89

11: 35 AM

-

Beep.

"Ngh..."

Beep.

"Go 'way..."

Beep.

"Shut up."

Beep.

Beep.

SLAM.

...Beep.

Andrew Greene looked up from his pillow, staring at his alarm clock. 11:36 AM. His hand was rested upon it, pressing down the Snooze button, but the damn thing kept beeping to wake him up. He blinked the sleep from his worn green eyes and fell back onto the pillow, caring not of what time it was. He groaned, annoyed by the beeping. He shook the clock with his hand, wanting to smash it to pieces.

Angered, he pulled the clock from the wall and stared at the blank screen where it had lost power to function. Beep. Andrew sat up in bed, and he shook the clock up and down, cursing at it. Beep. He hurled the clock at the wall. "The hell...?" He stood drowsily, and walked towards the broken thing. The beeping got softer. He backed up a step, it got louder. He turned around and stared at his phone.

1 Unheard Message.

He could almost jump out of the apartment window. "Son of a bitch..." Andrew pressed the listen button and his wife's voice came on.

Andrew, you're not still sleeping are you? Well, if you are, wake the hell up and turn on the news, there's something you might want to see.

"If it involves politics I'm not."

It's about this shark they found off of Connecticut. Just thought you might want to check it out, babe. Bye, bye, bye.

Click.

No new messages.

He searched through his laundry on the floor and found a small black remote under a pair of boxers. He plopped on the bed, staring forward at the small television on a stool. Andrew flipped it on, searching the screen for the channels he never watched. He reached over with his right hand and stuffed a stale corn puff into his mouth, crunching loudly. "Not seein' it, Karen…." He passed a few more dozen channels and then stopped.

--Happen to believe that this may be an ancestor of today's Great White Shark. This specimen measures 36 feet long…

Andrew interrupted the TV. "Huh, it's my age."

and weighs a total of 17 tons. It washed up on the beach last night when an old bait shop owner, Richard Yates, was taking an early morning walk and spotted the creature.

"That bastard's still alive…?"

--This very well could possibly be Carcharodon Megalodon, the ancient shark we have presumed to perish a million years ago. Back to you, Tom.

He changed the channel again, coming upon a movie that was made popular a few years ago. Jaws 3. He stared at its rubber body, but gigantic teeth and mean temper. "Is it shark week or somethin'?" He rolled over and ate up the rest of the corn puffs on his bed sheets.

He stood, stretched, and walked into the bathroom.

The phone rang.

He ignored it, turning on the knobs for the shower.

It kept ringing until it stopped and came to his voice mail. Yeah, you've reached Andrew Greene and his sweatin' lover, Karen, we're not here right now so leave a message and we might get back to you if we like you. Beep.

"Andy, its Kyle. Th-there's something going on with the dolphins; you better come take a look at this." Beep.

Andrew walked out of the bathroom, a concerned look upon his face.

---